Pinocchio's Love
by KoshiroEmika
Summary: Draco Malfoy should have never angered Hermione Granger that day. He should have never taken Muggle studies. Because then he wouldn't have had to realise feelings for a particular mudblood. His favourite mudblood. What will he do, now that he can't lie?


**Pinocchio's Love**

**So, second story of the Pinocchio trilogy! My first harry potter fic, so please go easy on me! :-)**

**Looking at my notes, look's like it's going to be a TWO-SHOT, maybe a three-shot if I don't manage to wrap things up cleanly enough… **

**this is placed in the half-blood prince book? that part-ish. When Ron is going out with Lavender. Yewwk :P**

**Ahem.. onwards?**

**Chapter 1: Is It An Illness?**

"Well… can anyone tell me the name of the _fascinating _machine that muggles use to communicate with each other from far distances?" Charity Burbage, the rather eccentric muggle studies professor, smiled down at them from the little platform at the front of the class – something she liked to call a 'stage'. She was a strange woman, always filled with little inklings of the things that happen. And the scary thing was, they usually did. She could have taken divination – most students believed she was better suited for the role of teaching divination than Trelawney.

Amidst the sea of heads, one hand shot up before the rest, and Draco resisted the urge to swear loudly, or hit the desk with his pale forehead. Instead, he groaned to himself – he was one of the very few Slytherins who had chosen to take muggle studies. There was Pansy Parkistan, but he knew she was a shallow girl who had only followed him with his rich heritance in mind, and another unimportant boy whose jet black hair he despised. Reminded him of that Potter boy.

Merlins beard, he hated that mudblood granger. Always, _always _getting the right answers – he loved it when Snape cut her off coldly. The smug, glowing look would disappear immediately, and be replaced with something a little more than disappointment. His own father was always comparing him, the pureblood to that filthy mudblood. Telling him – telling him to be more like one of…. _Them. _

Muggles.

He hated them – always acting they were in charge of the world, when they couldn't even make a pan _float – _always going about as if them purebloods hadn't saved their little asses. Ungrateful. So, if he hated muggles so much, why in merlins baggy Y fronts was he taking _muggle studies _as one of his subjects? He could have taken Herbology – wait, no. With a twitch of his index finger on his right hand, he distinctly remembered the stinging pain as the filthy mandrake's teeth sunk into his pale flesh.

There had to be one reason – he had nothing else, and by taking muggle studies, he had a bigger chance of making that mudblood wish she never existed. Make her so ashamed that she would stop pestering everyone, and be quiet or even better – make her go back to _her _lot.

"A telephone," answered Hermione effortlessly, smiling

The teacher returned the smile, her face lighting up. She had never had such a… eager student in her teaching years before. "That's right, 5 points to-"

"A telephone," Malfoy mimicked in a high pitched voice, his voice loud and squeaky. He listened to the flitter of laughter throughout the classroom with a smug smile, and looked at the Granger to see her face flush a fetching shade of red.

He almost felt sorry for her.

Almost.

She narrowed her warm brown eyes at him past her bushy chestnut hair – he had learnt it was her way of glaring.

Someone shouted 'good one, Malfoy and he smirked, still looking at her through his peripheral vision, gauging for any more entertaining reactions. However, he was disappointed when she turned back around, and promptly started packing her books away, like most of the class.

Only then had he realised the class had ended – and with a flurry of actions, he pushed his books into his leather bag, and strode quickly to catch up with Granger.

She was going to be the source of his entertainment today – he'd enjoy pushing every single one of her buttons, and enjoy it even more when she would throw a hissy fit, and scowl.

"Oi – Granger, where you going?"

"The library," she answered coldly, quickening her pace. He rolled his eyes – of course, the _library. _She just couldn't survive without reading for one minute, could she? Didn't she have anything else to do?

"What are you bloody going to do there?"

"Study. Maybe you should try it some time."

Ouch. That one actually kind of stung. But he refused to let that dampen his spirits and pressed on as he too, quickened his steps as they strode down the corridor, past the entrance of the Great Hall.

"I don't listen to mudbloods."

He had been so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't realise she had stopped in her tracks, and he came crashing into her. While he was trying to gain his footing, she had whipped around, her wand already drawn. Before he knew it, she had the tip of the long piece of wood jabbing viciously into him, right under his jaw. He tilted his head back, and scowled at her through his narrowed eyes.

"Touché," he commented.

"You annoy me so much," she hissed, her eyes blazing as she poked her weapon into his pale neck menacingly. Well, at least she looked kind of cute when she did it. Like a little puppy dog trying to be vicious – and failing.

Stay calm, he told himself. He took a deep breath.

"Well," he drawled. "Isn't this Déjà vu?"

"Shut up."

"But there's something missing," he jeered quietly. His eyes were gleaming with mischief, the corners of his lips curved upwards tauntingly. "Ah… I see – Potter isn't here… and what's this? Weasley isn't here? Why, is _Won-won _with Lavender again? Snogging again, I presume?"

He watched her face turn blank, and then become a wonderful shake of dark red as she finally caught on. An annoying, and unwelcome feeling bubbled in the pit of his stomach as he watched her eyes go watery with tears that threatened to spill. His Adams apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed the bile he tasted at the back of his mouth, nudging the wand slightly.

"Ron has nothing to do with this," Hermione choked out. Then, she seemed to take a quick breath to steady herself. "And I tend not to mix with bastards.

"Really, now? That's strange – isn't Potter a complete _Bastard, _and Ronald Weasley a complete _asshole _who hops around shagging L – "

He was cut off with a choke when he felt a rather vicious constriction round his throat. He was just hanging – barely hanging on – gasping quietly – when a rather anguished cry echoed from the other side of the almost empty corridor.

"Ms Granger!" howled Professor Charity Burbage, hurtling towards them. Hermione had paled visibly, and frozen, as Draco failed to bite back the smug smirk as he regained his breath the moment she lowered her wand.

Mission accomplished.

Damn, he was good at this.

"What on _earth _are you doing with y-your… _wand _sticking into Mr Malfoy's throat?" she gasped. She had stopped hurtling, and was now striding towards them, her face a beetroot red, and her lips twisted into a thin line.

He felt her flinch, and then lower her wand quickly, just before the muggle studies professor had caught up with them.

Looking absolutely appalled, her nose flaring, she looked down at them, intimidating. "Come, follow me, the two of you."

Silently, they followed.

Xx

Xx

"-I'm sorry Professor, I really am! It won't happen ever again" – there was a vicious kick at his leg under the desk that made his eyes water with pain – "Just _please _don't let it affect my marks?"

Professor Burbage seemed to pause, looking sternly at her, until her features softened and she let out a resigned sigh.

"Very well. And I certainly hope not to see such… behaviour from such a star student as yourself again – you may leave now," she said. Hermione rose from her seat, and so did Draco. "No, Mr Malfoy, I wish for you to have a word with you – sit back down."

Hermione flashed him a 'you-deserve-it' look, and left quickly with a smug look to her face as he groaned quietly and threw himself back into the chair, crossing his arms.

"What?" he asked, rather rudely.

Professor Burbage _dared _to smile at him after what she did to him, and reached to the side for a glistening crystal dish, filled with Berty Bott's every flavoured jelly beans, and a few pumpkin candies on the side.

"Like one?" she said.

He ignored her. "Can I go?"

"Manners, Mr Malfoy."

"Okay, may I be excused, _Professor?_"

A sly smile spread across her lips. "Why, are you that eager to catch up with Ms Granger? Do you want to _be _with her, Draco?"

"Well, yes I –"

Wait – what the fuck?

A look of horror crossed his face, but it changed almost instantly into indifference, bordering on disdain. But Professor Burbage didn't miss it, as she gave an wicked cackle.

He narrowed his eyes at her as she continued to crow and croon at him. "You tricked me – this isn't fair!"

"Life isn't fair, boy."

"My –"

"'Father will hear about this, yes,'" she finished for him, laughing even harder.

His lips thinned considerably, and he considered killing her. How many years did you get for murder again? Was it worth it?

He scrutinised her guffawing figure with narrowed eyes.

Yes, he decided, yes it was.

"Don't be so stiff, Draco. Tell me, what do you like about pretty Ms Granger?"

"I don't like her," he said stiffly, crossing his legs.

"Tell us, tell us," she chanted like a child, leaning in.

"I don't like the mudblood, okay?" his voice rose unsteadily, as he looked away in irritation.

The Professor seemed crestfallen, and she leaned back into her chair again, much to Draco's liking, with one of the muggle trinkets on the table between her fingers.

"You don't have to lie, it's plain as day to me." She fiddled with the trinket with her nifty fingers.

"Well, seems like you know me better than myself," he snapped, his temper rising.

"Maybe," she said thoughtfully. Then, she placed the object between her fingers back down where it had been previously, and leaned in again just as he rose to leave, his face stoic. "Wait – one last question," – He paused – "just to see if you have been listening to my classes." She added hastily.

He turned around and looking doubtful, he crossed his arms. "Alright, shoot me."

"Excellent," she said, her lips spreading into a wide, toothy smile. "Now, can you remember what 'Pinocchio' is?"

"What's that? An illness?"

She chuckled. "Not quite – but maybe. It was a good try, however, you answered wrong. This show's you haven't been listening to my classes," she said sternly. "As a result – there must be punishment – no, don't give me that face – I am a teacher, and you must be taught a lesson."

She raised a wand, and before he could even move, she muttered a spell under her breath, and Malfoy felt with a shock, a small tingle on the tip of his nose. What in Merlin's pants?

His hands snapped up to his nose, and touched around for any change to his facial features. If anything turned weird – he swore, he was going to make her life living _hell. _

To his disbelief, he found nothing wrong with anything – and catching a glimpse of his perfect face on the reflection of one of the many shiny ornaments, he was befuddled to indeed be the same as before.

"Not quite," she said, reading him by his facial expressions. "But there is a… curse on you. Your homework will be to read the story of Pinocchio, and trust me, if you read it, you will know what curse it is. And yes, Pinocchio is the title of a muggle tale."

Goodness, it was so much fun to curse students just to see what would happen. Thinking for excuses was just as much fun.

He opened his mouth to argue, when the door behind him swung open, narrowly missing him. So, she was telling him to leave? Fine then! He'd leave – that'd show her! He stomped out, and his cheeks dusted a light pink as he heard her chuckling with the familiar scratching of parchment again.

And for the next few days, he threw himself into the library, searching for such a book, diving into the empty restricted section every time someone passed: there was no way he was going to be seen with _books. _That was Grangers job. He refused to give in and ask directions to the librarian – instead, he'd find it himself! He'd get the satisfaction by himself, thank you very much?

"- Hermione won't let me copy her work –"

He ran like hell the few meters to the restricted bookshelves, and threw himself behind one.

And to his luck, he went crashing into someone.

And it just _had _to be a mop of bushy brown hair, which meant it was the mudblood granger.

"Malfoy?" she cried, shocked. "What on _earth _are you doing here?"

Hearing Potter's voice louden as he approached, he clamped his hand over Hermione's mouth hurriedly, and using the other hand, he shut the door. She tried to move away, and he wrapped a vice like arm around her waists

"mmfg," she cried against his pale hand, clawing at his hand with her blunt nails. "mnp!"

"Shh," he hissed, a hint of desperation betraying him.

She quietened after that and her hand fell to her side, limp. They waited, and Hearing his nemesis's voice fade away, with his pathetic sidekick, the Weasley he let her go.

Okay, maybe that was a lie. She stomped on his foot, and crying out in pain and hopping unceremoniously, his hands had made their way to his throbbing foot. She fell out of his grasp and with an _oof_,her body met the floor, her feet and arms flailing. A foot caught on the ankle of Draco's painfully throbbing foot and he tripped over clumsily, landing on top her, earning another _oomf _from the both of them.

The two of them groaned, and he forced himself up on his knees and his hands. He raised a hand to massage his shoulder, that had hit the cold, hard floor with such an impact that he swore he heard his bone squeak in protest. He opened his eyes to see two brown ones looking back at him in surprise.

Shocked, his eyes opened, and his lips parted.

He felt her warm breath fan across his face, and his usually discoloured cheeks were dusted with a pink he frowned inwardly at. He examined her close face, and absently noted that her eyes were round, and the brown did not actually look like shit, which he had convinced him it had been, but actually a warm, liquid chocolate that reminded him of the chocolate fountains that they ate at the Christmas feasts. He was distracted by her teeth, which were biting down on her full, bottom lip.

Then, he realised that they were far, _far _too close - and that he should have been disgusted. But he wasn't. In fact, he liked it.

It was because it was a brilliant place to tease her, of course, he told himself. Of course. Make fun of her.

"Why, hello Granger," he said wickedly, her last name rolling off his tongue easily after years of experience. "Enjoying the view?"

"I – er – "

Flushing a shade of scarlet, she fumbled for words. A rare sight, indeed. He decided to push his luck a little more.

"Are you?" he murmured, his hot breath fanning her face, not helping her try to dissipate blush at all. "Expecting a kiss, mayb – _oof!"_

She pushed him off, and he landed on his rear.

"Of course not!" she replied hotly, scrambling up.

He looked up at her, expecting at least an extended hand, or an apology. Instead, she crossed her arms across her chest, and huffed, refusing to think about how … adorable he looked. The way his usual slick hair was ruffled, and strands came free and hung infront of his eyes. She tucked her own hair back behind her eyes with a little more force than needed, scoffing to herself.

What was she thinking? Malfoy, adorable? Oh for goodness sakes, she was turning _senile _at this age!

"Anyway," she said quickly, as he slowly stood up. She averted her eyes guiltily away from him. "What are _you _doing here?"

"I was under the impression the library was open for everyone?" he said, a perfect eyebrow arched.

"I know that," she said in frustration. "But what on earth are _you _doing here? _I_ was under the impression that the library was too good for you?"

Merlin's pants, everything that came out of those pretty lips sounded so _accusing. _

"Then you were wrong," he said simply.

She scoffed. "I doubt it."

"Over confident, I see?"

"Bastard."

"Nerd."

"Arrogant Jerk."

"Muggle"

She gasped, and narrowed her eyes. "you _dare-"_

"Yes, I dare," said Malfoy smugly.

"Why you little – "

Then, as if to make false her point, he stepped towards her, ridding then of the little space that had been between them, easily towering over her body. She stopped mid sentence, and looked up to see one of his infuriating smirks.

She stumbled back a step, which he closed easily with one of his own.

"So?" he asked.

Making a displeased sound, she staggered back another step, stubbornly refusing to admit he was right. Once more, he closed it just as easily as he had done before.

She made another sound, which he found surprisingly well, cute. But before she stepped back, Draco stepped on her shoe, but made sure to only step on the very top of the shoe, so she would fall.

"Ah!" she cried as she lost her footing, just like he planned. But before she could land on her rear, he grabbed her wrist, and pulled her forward, making sure to pull with a little more force than necessary so she would fall into his open arms.

Not that he _liked _being near the mudblood, of course.

Just as he had planned, she stumbled into his open arms, his face burying into the bush she called 'hair'.

He paused.

Bloody hell, was it normal for a girl to smell like… _this? _

Pansy Parkistan had smelt of flowers, and it was one of the reasons he had disliked going out with her – it was just too _strong _for his liking, Millicent Brustrode had smelt _completely _of cats and soap, to which he had avoided like a plague, but the Granger smelt like … well … she smelt like _cinnamon. _Just subtlety, but it was absolutely mouth watering - the smell, not her. Intoxicating, even. He took a deep whiff of her hair, which was surprisingly soft. He had guessed it to be just as bristly as it looked. He registered the scent into his memory. After all, he wasn't going to smell her hair whenever he wanted to.

She pushed him off, and stuck her nose in the air. "Hmph. Then what are _you _doing here? I daresay you were looking for a book." – she rolled her eyes – "Golly gosh, Malfoy looking for a _book? _I must make a note of this!" she said flippantly. Then, she placed a finger on her chin, and looked thoughtful. Sarcastically, of course.

He rolled his eyes, and ran his hand through his hair, shoving the stray stands back in place. "Of course not. You wouldn't see me finding a book, _ever, _Granger."

He stopped.

He felt a tingling, almost stinging feeling from the tip of his nose to the high bridge between his eyes.

She gasped, and her hands flew to her mouth.

And so, the chaos began.

**Xx**

**Xx**

**FINISHED. FINALLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY **

**Should I continue? Or no good?**

**Don't forget to review, and thanks for reading!**


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